Sunday, June 17, 2007

Sewage, Snot and Scallops

I am not very fond of the end of the school year. I really don’t appear to be the only parent having bitter, bitter feelings towards field trips, potlucks, field days and open houses. The kids are over-excited and worn out, and I am mostly just deeply, deeply weary. Although it appears that part of my tiredness was due to a need for... antibiotics. I only found out about that because Curly started hawking up atomic green lung snot and I hauled her in. Doctor took a look at her, and then, since she is well accustomed to how much the kids and I like to share viruses, infections and other things that make us a miserable trio of musketeers, took a look at me, too. So now the kids and I are on antibiotics.

Hoo.

Ray.

My husband is (thankfully) rarely afflicted by the crud that we acquire and pass around and cook into nasty little infections. I’m hoping that the antibiotics killing the crud will make my outlook slightly less bleak. I don’t think I’ll stop feeling resentful of ice cream socials and potlucks and picnics until the school year finishes, though.

Which is… Friday. So, Friday will arrive, and poof! I should release my resentment of picnics, pies and other things most people associate with wholesome enjoyment, but presently have many parents at the local school muttering darkly under their breath.

Actually, I’m sure I can find something else to be bitter about. I’m resourceful that way.

So there was the lung snot, which is hopefully coming under control. And earlier this week the sink backed up and started spitting out scary black sludge. Yum. Nothing to make a day more fun like having to call the plumber because of scary black sludge. Or getting to clean the sludge that squidged from the pipes out from under the sink, and off all of the stuff that we keep under the sink. Or getting to scrub the sink many, many times after the sludge has been pumped away by the plumber. Yup. Fun. Fun, fun, fun. My mom and my blog police read this, so the other “fu—“ word that comes to mind more readily than “fun” is perhaps less than perfectly suitable.

With all the antibiotic fun, my son missed some school this week. We "recuperated" by going to have lunch with his daddy (and um, hopefully not spreading our virus around his office). We packed a tuna-bean salad to all share; it's a favorite of Curly's. Below is a picture of what was left.

Inspired by all the sludge and snot, yesterday I bought scallops to have for dinner. The kids recently discovered that good scallops are fantastic, and were delighted. My husband is about as keen to eat a scallop as he is to eat snot, and really, whenever you look at a mollusk, it’s hard not to feel a little sympathy for the people who are grossed out by them. Clams: look like snot. Oysters: like someone just sneezed hugely into the shell. Mussels: hairy snot. Geoduck: dinosaur-size snot. Scallops: solidified snot. There’s a theme aside from me not being able to stop typing snot (snot snot snot), and it's that I see why some people are put off by mollusks. And yet, despite this understanding, I still chow down on them. I baked the scallops in a tomato-bacon-sauce covered with bread crumbs. The kids vacuumed them up. Even my husband seemed to like them. It was fun to watch. Fun as in genuinely enjoyable, not fun like a several hundred dollar bill from the plumber and a pile of sludge to clean up.

And today… it’s Father’s Day. We made my husband eggs Benedict for breakfast, which caused the sort of post-prandial food coma that one would expect. In the adults, anyway. In the kids it inspired a prolonged session of jump-roping (it makes my stomach churn just thinking about trying to jump rope after eating that much butter). Dinner will be a token amount of grilled steak and then, to celebrate the arrival of the Incredible Eating Nephew (who I have to go get in, oh, two minutes): strawberry shortcake. His portion of steak won’t be token. I’ve been stocking up on food to get us through the first couple days of his visit. Our pantry cannot fit any more. Nor can the refrigerator. I have a feeling I’ll be back at the grocery store by Tuesday. At the latest.

The blog police have been after me for pictures lately, but mostly of things like the aircraft carrier they made out of blocks. This one is a picture of a fort my daughter made, guarded by a pair of plastic stegosauruses. She’s a big dinosaur fan, that girl. I think if there was a shirt with a pink T-Rex with sequin scales, it would be her favorite shirt EVER.

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